From commentor Sarah in Brooklyn:
When our cat Louie died, I wanted another cat right away. Louie’s pal, Max, was sad, and I hated having only one cat. I called one of Brooklyn’s cat rescuers (aka crazy cat lady), who said she had a kitten. We went out to her place, which was surprisingly sane considering that she had many, many, many cats and some dogs there. In one of her cat rooms were a lot of adult cats. It was a swirling mass of cat bodies, but I looked down and this little grey kitten was looking up at me, and it was all over.
That was about 5 years ago. Strummer and Max have never gotten along well, but I adore him. He’s a secret love cat – most of the time he’s stand-offish, but he gets under the covers with me at night, curls up against my belly and purrs like a steam engine. He’ll sleep like that for hours, with his head on my arm. He’s also a champion jumper, as you can see from the picture (full disclosure: he can’t jump from the floor to the top of the door, but he goes from floor to bookcase to door with great ease). He’s an intelligent and mysterious cat, and I feel honored that he actually likes to spend time with me. He also has a really impressive set of whiskers.